


Beach Day

by WaldosAkimbo



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Day At The Beach, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, PRU don't interact, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), ask them out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: A little further down the beach, they found a rocky landscape that dipped into bright-blue pools illuminated by the sun. Newt pumped his fist high into the air, a little grunt of excitement as he angled them towards the hazardous terrain. There was a spot that was a little flatter and Hermann leaned against it while Newt sat his bag down and started crouching over the pools.“Oh!” Newt dropped himself flat against the jagged stones, his hands gripping the sides before he scooped one into the water and carefully pulled up a little scuttling crab in a slightly opalescent shell. “I told you!” He laughed openly, easily, letting the little critter scurry over his open palm and back into the water. “Oh, shit, Herms, that’s a starfish! And, look, look! Little bit of algae growth here, holy shit, I need that sample jar right there. No, that one. Yes, that one.”-OR-Hermann thinks he really likes Newt and doesn't know what to do about that.





	Beach Day

It was the very simple fact that the sun was shining that improved his mood as the prowler transport slowed and, finally, stopped. They barely felt the jolt of the breaks as they were in one of those huge, lumbering solar beasts that would have the least impact on the site. Deplorable views out little reinforced 10-by-12-inch windows. Hermann had nearly hidden his entire head in his hat when he started to get motion sickness. It was nothing like being in a plane. And oh, oh, how he missed that thrill, when he was in the academy, when he…..

“We’re here!” His partner squeezed his hand quickly, leaving an imprint of pale white on Hermann’s forearm. He stared at it a moment, his eyebrows coming down in a scowl of their own volition, yanking him out of an old day dream. “Come on, come on, come on!”

“You have to twist it clockwise.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Newt paused, looked at the locking mechanism, and turned his shoulder to hide the fact that he was, indeed, trying to crank the wheel counter-clockwise and, apparently, seal them in forever.

There was a pleasant click and hiss as the door popped open, the seal breaking and ocean-cooled air slipping into the interior of their vehicle.

Newt’s laughter was a virus, digging trenches and licking his brain as the enigmatic fool kicked open the door the rest of the way with a sandaled foot— _against regulations, Newton, are you insane?_ —and hefted a large beige duffel bag up onto his shoulder, crinkling some of the toxic-blue shade of his Hawaiian print shirt.

“Ho-lee shit, Herms,” Newt said, drawing every syllable out in slow reverence. “Come on, man! Here, let me help!”

“I’ve got it, thank you.”

“Yeah, come on.”

“Newton!”

“Oh my god, you don’t need more sunscreen, just come down here. Look, it’s so soft.” Newt bent under the view of the vehicle’s four-steps decline and popped up again with pristine white sand running through his fingers.

“I don’t think you should touch it until we have the toxicology report,” Hermann grumbled, trying to hide the worry deep, _deep_ in the well of his chest. He felt naked already, convinced wearing socks would be a nightmare and only had on a pair of old, well-loved loafers.

“Already ran a few samples or else I would not have on these bad boys!” He stood again to kick up his foot, the Velcro sandals crisscrossing over the top of his foot. He laughed again, easy as ever, and offered his hand a second time to help Hermann down. “Come on. You look great.”

That made Hermann shrivel his mouth into another scowl, his nose scrunching upwards. He glanced down at the green and red and orange hibiscus patterns and palm trees overlaying everything on the shirt Newt had _insisted_ Hermann wear that morning. He even had on a pair of pale pink shorts that just about made it to his knees, because it was very hot and because it was a secluded location and because, Newt, the idiot, had packed their bags and why had Hermann trusted him with this? Never again! Never again! Vowed! He—

The last step was a little further distance than the rest and Hermann stumbled into Newt’s ready arms, gripping him too tightly on his shoulders. He winced as he steadied himself, and slowly cracked his eyes to see Newt’s soft, kind face smiling up at him. Hermann quickly pressed his floppy hat back onto his head and turned to grab something off a hook near the door. Turned out to be a pair of binoculars. Of course he wanted a pair of binoculars. That was exactly what he needed, absolutely, no questions asked. Binoculars.

“Ah, hell yeah, man, maybe we can check out any birds that migrated back into the area,” Newt said, patting Hermann’s arm.

“Right,” Hermann answered, and squeezed the binoculars a little tighter around the lens. See? They were necessary. He knew that, of course he knew that. And it was not because he needed a distraction from looking at that slightly scruffy chin or those gray-green eyes or anything. “Bird watching.”

“Bird watching,” Newt repeated helpfully. Hermann rolled his eyes and almost put them back in the vehicle, but Newt just took a hold of Hermann’s wrist and gently tugged him further onto the beach.

There’s something striking about a clear day and a clean beach laid out before them. It harkened back to some of those bold Ansel Adams prints, _Lagoon, Pfieffer Beach,_ or _Refugio Beach_. The morning sun bleached out the colors for a moment, too early to show off all the deep blues and greens, the clouds hanging heavy near the horizon and blotting patches of pale sky above. Hermann shaded his eyes beneath the already wide brim of his hat and Newt stared up, taking a deep, _deep_ breath.

“Yep.” Newt nodded at nothing. “We’re lucky.”

He did not elaborate. Hermann wished he would, but perhaps the statement needed to stand out on its own.

Hermann adjusted the grip of his cane, the rubber foot slowly sinking into the white sand. It had been so long since he had been to a beach, long before he needed his cane, and he tried to recall the sounds of all the people lying about, laughing, rushing into the surf. He thought there must have been a time or two he went with his brothers and sister, his mother reclining on a large blanket under a huge parasol, his father sitting next to her with a book in hand. The memory is there, of course, but it feels manufactured in a way. Too young. His father’s face too blurry to remember what he looked like when Hermann was five, maybe six, and his mother frozen in that spot on the towel. Their faces are replaced by their current faces and seeing older Lars scowl at his children seems accurate, but not authentic to the moment. They had been, at a time, happy. Reserved, yes, and conservative in their familial affections, yes, but happy. Young.

All it is…it’s a quick, shotgun memory that he hadn’t resurfaced for decades because the simple fact was that the ocean was a terrible, terrible place full of monsters and he had spent too long fighting them to save any tender fondness for the place.

“…right? If I find even one hermit crab. Hermann crab, ha! Let’s go check!” Newt was already mid-rant, apparently, and was sort’ve half-leading Hermann down the empty beach.

“Don’t pull!”

“I’m not!”

But Newt did slow down again, his hand hovering near Hermann’s back without touching, without thinking about it. He kept looking into his bag or out at the sand, at the distant ruined structures of the cities that had yet to be rebuilt and huge kaiju bones still cemented in the rubble. Picked clean by time, scavengers, collectors. Still likely being harvested during the night, chipping away at the final remains for useless bone powder remedies.

It was nearly a half a year to until the anniversary of Operation Pitfall. The breach was closed and while there was still the inevitable paranoia that the kaiju would, indeed, return to try and wipe them all out, the apocalypse had been stopped, as the popular retelling of The Speech goes. People were working on environmental studies and Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb still found themselves employed by the PPDC. They were one of the last of the old guard at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, like they were afraid to start their lives somewhere else. They kept saying, no, of course not. They were going to look for work elsewhere. They were going to “head home” as it were, but they had already found a home.

Mako had stayed. And while she worked to mend ties with the rest of her family, such as her fiery and temperamental brother, she kept Pentecost’s legacy alive. She kept the original spirit of the PPDC alive. Even while she took two weeks off every couple of months or so to go visit Raleigh, who was being taken care of in a top-notch facility back in Oregon.

There was still work to be done, still research on any and all remaining samples, unknotting the technology that had opened the breach to advance human scientific advancements, namely space travel and the likes, which was a personal delight to Hermann. They had so many projects to keep themselves busy and even when the obvious projects started to dry up, there was still the rest of the world that was healing. That needed them. The scars on the wildlife and the oceans was starting to fade and they were just the pair to help monitor that progress.

While researching marine life and the effects on the coast tipped far more into Newt’s expertise, the simple fact was that neither of them worked apart for their tenure in the k-science division and they were not about to start just because the kaiju were gone. Newt got the assignment to take a rig to the Tai Long Wan beach while they were still feigning arrangements to transfer to a PPDC facility back in the States – “ _or we could try somewhere in Europe?”_   _Hermann had asked._

_“Dude, you wanna go to Europe?”_

_“I’m not entirely opposed to the idea.”_

_“I mean, I can look for something. What’re you thinking? Dad’s in Berlin with Illia. Oh, shit, I bet we could ask, uh….”_

_“Dietrich.”_

_“Deeds! Yeah, he works for….”_

_“You’re so very bad at this, Newton.”_

_“I’m_ just _saying.”_

_“I’ll give him a call when we’re back. Did you pack my—”_

_“Yes! Yes, I have everything packed for tomorrow. Get off my back, Herms.”_

_“Never.”_

_“You’re the worst. You’re lucky I like you, man, because you’re the worst.”_

_“Likewise.”_

Wherever they ended up, they needed storage for their combined _junk_ , a shower with a deep enough tub, and a good bed. No matter what they said on the matter, they still slept in the same bed, just as they had done that first night after they had drifted and could not physically be apart without panic and pain and, at this point, it was a matter of familiar comfort.

Not that they liked each other.

Of course not.

Well, they never _said_ so, in no uncertain terms, at least.

“Binoculars.”

“What?” Hermann asked, blinking rapidly again as he came out of his own thoughts. His cheeks grew pink and he imagined his sunscreen was already failing him as he smashed his hat brim back down and held up the binoculars he still gripped in his hand. “What about…?”

“Dude, there!” Newt stepped slightly behind him and touched his elbow, which made Hermann flinch as he brought the lenses up to his eyes and squinted at the slightly blurry sight. Newt nudged him again and a white creature came into focus. “Do you see that?”

“The…is that a crane?”

“Yes!” Newt laughed, clapping his hands together and stumbling backwards as his fists pumped in and out in a victorious dance. “A crane! Oh, if we catch a couple of grebes around here or maybe some petrels? Dude, I told you there was wildlife returning to the area. This is a really good sign!”

“I figured the seagulls were as good an indication,” Hermann muttered, unsure why he wanted to put a damper on Newt’s celebration. But Newt didn’t falter. He just laughed harder, nodded, and took the binoculars from Hermann’s hand to check out the crane far down the beach. 

“Cormorants too, back where we were driving in. Did you see them?”

“How do you know so many birds?” Hermann asked and Newt just shrugged up a brightly-colored shoulder, half his collar turned inside out. Hermann stared at it while Newt stared at the bird, muttering to himself.

“Mm, maybe a heron, actually. Looks like he tucks his neck in too much. I’d kill for a crane to come back, you know. That would be – what are you doing?”

Hermann blushed brighter, his hand caught against Newt’s neck where he was trying to smooth out his collar. He pulled his hand into a tight fist and dropped it at his side, looking at the sand as fast as he could. Newt brushed his shoulder up against his cheek a few times to dispel the strange sensation, before he reached up and noticed the collar, laughing a little gentler.

“Oh. Thanks, man,” he said, turning it right-side-out. “Didn’t even notice it.”

“Uh.” Hermann faltered, still, knocking his fist against his thigh. He felt ready to be reprimanded same as he would have when he was ten and was caught grabbing a sweet before dinner. His own anxieties lingered, but Newt was already back on the birds, scanning along the beach and into the renewed vegetation. “Not a…problem,” Hermann finished lamely. He could kick himself, but he’d probably end up flat on the sand if he tried.

A little further down the beach, they found a rocky landscape that dipped into bright-blue pools illuminated by the sun. Newt pumped his fist high into the air, a little grunt of excitement as he angled them towards the hazardous terrain. There was a spot that was a little flatter and Hermann leaned against it while Newt sat his bag down and started crouching over the pools.

“Oh!” Newt dropped himself flat against the jagged stones, his hands gripping the sides before he scooped one into the water and carefully pulled up a little scuttling crab in a slightly opalescent shell. “I told you!” He laughed openly, easily, letting the little critter scurry over his open palm and back into the water. “Oh, shit, Herms, that’s a starfish! And, look, look! Little bit of algae growth here, holy shit, I need that sample jar right there. No, that one. Yes, that one.”

Newt held out his hand eagerly as Hermann dug through the bag, pushing aside empty containers until he held the one Newt apparently _desperately_ needed. Newt reached for him, fingers overlapping over the glass that, thankfully, Hermann didn’t drop. Newt winked before he settled himself around the tide pool better and carefully extracted another of those little crabs he had found. He gathered samples of the plant life, occasionally reaching around and tugging his voice recorder out to quickly jot verbal notes down for himself. Hermann had gotten him a new one for this very occasion, which needed to be water proof and was oddly proud to see him using it. Newt’s voice picked up quickly the more excited he got, the more technical his rambling became and soon they had several specimens lined up on the rocky shelf beside Hermann.

The sun was almost directly above them as Newt finished up with this tide pool, double checking his samples, the site, occasionally stretching up and rubbing his back with his hands. He had just finished putting the last jar in the bag, cooing to the little critters that they were going to have an awesome new home and “daddy’s gonna take really god care of you.” He kept glancing over at the potential bird’s nest just down the beach.

“This was a really good day, huh?” he asked, carefully moving around the tidepool to sit directly next to Hermann. Their knees touched and neither of them moved away from it. Hermann unscrewed the cap to a water bottle and held it out. “Thanks, man.” Newt bumped their shoulders and took it, draining half the bottle in big, greedy gulps.

“I’m glad,” Hermann said, carefully tugging and smoothing down the cuff of his pink shorts. “That it was a good day, I mean. That we’re, mm…lucky?”

Newt hummed a question, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was already starting to get a healthy roasted color on the skin Hermann could see through the vibrant patches of his tattoos. It made him sweat just to see the little trickle of perspiration slide down from his temple and Hermann took off his hat, fanning both of them. Newt sighed, leaning closer, and touched his arm.

“Gonna need more,” he said. “Soon. Not yet, Herms, come on.” He held Hermann’s arm when the man tried to get up and head back to the vehicle. “Sit with me a little longer.”

Newt had insisted on sunscreen, which Hermann was surprised about, but, apparently, tattoos did not do well in the sun and he wasn’t about to ruin them for a beach day. His own words. They were due for a reapplication soon.

“I’m glad we got this place all to ourselves,” Newt said, finally handing the water bottle back to Hermann after they were both resettled. “I know people are gonna be crawling all over this place when, you know, they can? And they should?”

“Are you certain or are you trying to convince yourself?” Hermann asked, patting Newt’s leg. Newt laughed and covered Hermann’s hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth with a genial swipe that had no tension or awkwardness to it, that made Hermann stare with a small, earnest smile that he felt he should dampen down despite the warmth of his skin. “Newt—”

“Wanna go swimming?”

Hermann swallowed his words, tugging away from the question.

“What?”

“It’s so hot!” Newt laughed and stood up, despite the fact that he had just pulled Hermann back down next to him not a moment ago. He was already skimming his hands quickly down the front of his Hawaiian shirt—violent colors, all of them, and yet how perfect did they suit this violently colorful man? “Come on. Nobody’s here. Take a dip with me, Herms.”

“Newton, I—”

“I know you know how to swim.”

He was teasing, obviously, reaching for Hermann after his shirt was completely undone, hanging open to show off the beautiful and beautifully nightmarish tattoos that covered Newt’s chest and stomach, the lines and patches of almost bruised-colored ink over his ribs and the plumes of yellow clouds skimming his hips. Hermann wanted to touch them so badly. He almost reached and clenched his fist over the top of his cane.

Sometimes, and he did not let this happen as often as he liked, but sometimes, in the middle of the night, he turned in his almost-sleep and curled around Newt, seeking warmth from a delectably soft and warm source, yes, but also to blindly feel his form and guess at the lines of tattoos he might be tracing at the time. It was too intimate to even dare try and do it when he was fully awake, of course.

Of course.

“Of course I know how to swim,” Hermann muttered, finding comfort in anger and indignation.

Newt was referring to some of the memories they had shared during their drift. The hours and hours and hours Hermann had spent swimming laps as a therapy for his leg. He could feel the cold, _cold_ pool water seep into his skin and almost smell the chlorine and he looked up into Newt’s eyes, wondering if he experienced the same flashback memory. Of a young boy stomping through a marshy bog in giant rubber boots with his Uncle close behind him while they searched for frogs, his father busy with work and—

Hermann closed his eyes to Newt’s memory, too. Still bizarre. They felt so real. Like he had personally lived them. And they weren’t so frequent anymore, of course, but he could still call them up same as he could the little memory of his mother on the towel, of his siblings racing into the surf. Not perfect, but still there.

“Oh, Newton, I don’t think….”

Newt reached down and held Hermann’s hands, steadying them right near his chest.

“You’ll be fine, dude. I promise. I even brought a change of clothes back in the prowler.” Newt’s eyes brightened as the sun peeked out through the clouds again and he smiled expectantly.

“What about your samples?”

“Yeah, seriously? Such a quick dip. I promise. I don’t wanna burn and I don’t wanna leave them out here too long. Come on, it’ll be in and out before you know it.”

Hermann almost made a crude joke and wasn’t sure if that was himself or Newt’s influence over him. He rolled his eyes a bit too dramatically and had Newt help him up, relenting at last as he set his hat just under the flap of Newt’s duffel bag and carefully began to pick apart the top button of his own garish shirt. Borrowed.

 _Totally not borrowed. Totally yours._ Hermann smiled as he imagined Newt’s response.

The wind had a bit of a bite to it, skimming over the Pacific Ocean, despite the persistent heat of the sun. Hermann wrapped his arms around his torso and leaned down just as finished with the last button, but Newt slipped up to him and grabbed his forearms, tugging to stand and walking backwards towards the foamy seam of sand and ocean water. Newt nearly tripped, yelping as he hooked his ankle with his opposite foot and he caught himself just as quickly, laughing a bit too hard. A bit too loudly towards the sky.

“Don’t be nervous,” Hermann said, his voice pitching to annoyance despite the smile spreading on his face.

“I’m not,” Newt answered, still grinning.

Hermann was leaning against Newt just as the waves slapped the back of Newt’s calves, spraying Newt’s legs and dotting specks across Hermann’s pink shorts. It was just cold enough that Hermann yelped, clutching Newt tighter and pulling him closer to block any further waves.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Newt braced his hands on Hermann’s exposed sides under the open shirt, his fingers warm and rough and firm enough that they didn’t tickle. “Hey. Not so bad, right?”

They stood there nearly six inches deep in the waves, which slipped beneath them, threatening to pull their feet out from under them. Hermann didn’t worry about it so much, with Newt so sturdily planted in front of him. The wind wicked across them again and they laughed, not entirely sure why.

“Yeah,” Newt said, noticeably trembling. “It’s way colder than I thought.”

“The water? It feels good.”

“Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?”

Newt kept looking up at him, his eyes skipping back and forth across Hermann’s features and Hermann decided to focus on Newt’s freckles, on his long dark eyelashes, his hair whipped back off his forehead by the wind. The complimenting slope of his slightly darker lips. Very inviting….

“Binoculars!”

“God, Newton, please stop—”

“Look, look!” Newt turned Hermann quickly, gingerly holding him around his hips and leaning heavy against his back as he pointed down the beach. “We were right the first time! Look at him taking off. That’s so a crane! Hot damn!”

The way Newt laughed behind him, it vibrated through Hermann’s back and rocked around in his ribs, like they were sharing the same lungs. Newt wrapped his arms securely around Hermann, babbling in his ear about the elegant shape of the crane’s head, the striations in its wings, the strange bolt of color on its chest and if this was a new species that had evolved to accommodate the new world. He was clearly giddy, his palms working up and down Hermann’s naked chest as he contemplated what this meant for the area, for the wildlife. Hermann closed his eyes, listening to Newt rant and touch him and he could hardly help himself as he pivoted as best he could on his good leg, grabbed Newt’s face, and kissed him.

It was not their first kiss.

Not even their first sober kiss, if they were honest.

And how often was Hermann this honest with himself?

The helicopter ride back from the Bone Slums had been quiet, the churn of the helicopter blades loud enough to drown out their words, but their thoughts were linked and they clung to each other, rediscovering their limbs and memories and selves and Newt had leaned in but perhaps Hermann had done so first and suddenly they were kissing each other like their worlds were crashing around them and it was, wasn’t it, end of the world, Operation Pitfall, and the helicopter settled and they pulled apart, and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt like their skull being cleaved apart and so they struggled to stay close, closer, sleeping wrapped around each other and that had not changed, of course, but this had. This, with their lips lining against each other, skin and tongue and teeth and laughter bubbling up from one throat or both as they carded each other’s hair or gripped each other’s shoulders or moaned a question as the ocean sucked back harder and Newt lost his footing again in the unstable silt, falling into the ocean wave with Hermann on his chest.

Hermann regrets that. Or he decided to regret that later as he chased after Newt and continued what he started. Newt braced his hand in the sand to keep them from slipping out further, the other a firm fist in Hermann’s hair.

Of course, the fall and the angle were doing no favors and the sun was still beating down on them and the ocean was still a moving, living beast pushing and pulling at them. Hermann pulled back finally, panting down towards Newt’s chest.

“Apologies,” Hermann muttered, wiping his bottom lip.

“Did I bite your lip?”

“What?” Hermann looked up and went bright red at Newt’s soft, soft, perfectly kissable face. He almost did it again, like he needed to make up for his stupidity, but he just smiled and shook his head. “No.”

“Oh. Okay, good. Whew.” Newt whistled, eyebrows climbing up and he fixed his hair a little, then Hermann’s, chuckling through it all. “Uh, not that I’m anywhere against what just happened, but, uh, _what_ just happened.”

“I like you,” Hermann blurted quickly. He shook his head, like he meant to stop himself, or correct whatever embarrassing course he was steering himself towards, but he didn’t _want_ to stop. “I like you so much, Newton.”

“Well, hey, buddy. Uh, I like you too?” Newt brushed Hermann’s cheek, tilting his chin just so, still grinning sheepishly at him.

“You do?” Hermann’s heart leapt instantly into his chest, unable to believe, even though it was so perfectly easy to see that Newt felt the same way and he grinned hard enough to show his teeth, which felt like they might be the only thing keeping his heart in his chest.

“Yeah,” Newt answered through a laugh, his own confusion blooming so perfectly. “Dude, I would _hope_ my boyfriend liked me?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I mean…shit, I mean…. We live together. We sleep together!”

“Not like _that_.” Hermann pushed on Newt’s chest, but was not immediately pulling away, which he was so certain was the right move, if he really felt anger or hurt towards the situation. He should. Shouldn’t he? His hand remained flat on Newt’s chest and he scowled at it like it was betraying him.

“Yeah, dude, I thought you were taking things slow?” Newt reached up and took Hermann’s hand, and he did not jerk out of his grasp. Shouldn’t he? “Oh my god. I totally forgot to ask, didn’t I?”

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry. Are you mad?”

“ _Yes_!” Hermann answered again, louder, and shook his head. “I could have been doing so much more of that!”

Newt’s confusion and fear melted away.

“Do what, baby?” Newt asked, the smug little gremlin, and his eyes, his beautiful, perfect, _stupid_ eyes. The stupid, smug _bastard_ with _stupid smug bastard eyes,_ that perfect _bastard_ , stupid perfect smug stupid—

Hermann kissed him again, knocking them back into the water like he meant to drown him. Maybe he did, the fiend, but he nipped at Newt’s lip instead and ignored the surf soaking into their shorts and their matching ugly shirts. He hoped Newt wasn’t lying about the change of clothes, but that was such a distant second concern from what he was doing just then.

“Hey, you wanna be my boyfriend?” Newt asked, pulling back enough to mutter the words quickly against Hermann’s lips.

“Yes, you bastard.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Newt said, clearly pouting, but he was silenced almost instantly by the fiercest kiss he had in his life. They could have softer, kinder, gentler later. They would. They’d hold hands and voice their “I love yous” instead of swallowing them into their sleeves or into their pillows late at night and as they set up specimens and figured out the apartment they would move in together and that was their future, yes, but now? Now, he bit Newton.

“Ow!”

“I’m not sorry!” Hermann yelled, but he was, brushing his fingers quickly over Newton’s lip and chin. His vision blurred and he tucked in against Newt’s chest, pulling his stupid blue Hawaiian shirt up around him as ocean water threatened to soak his cheek. He didn’t care. He stayed there and tried not to cry. “I’m sorry,” he said softer.

“I’m sorry,” Newt answered earnestly, rubbing Hermann’s back. There was clearly the sound of a smile in his face, but he was trying to be earnest, and that was nice of him. _Bastard_. “I didn’t realize you were beating yourself up about asking me out.”

“I wasn’t,” Hermann said seriously. “I just thought of it today.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Even if that wasn’t entirely true. But it was. It was both.

“Well…?”

There was a distant bird cry above them and they turned their attention to it, staring up at the hazy structure of kaiju bones fallen in the broken city, the world being retaken by nature and humans and their combined efforts at that. The ocean kept moving, kept going, kept breathing sound and pressure into their lives as it beat against the sand. It felt deceptively nice, considering the horrors it birthed. Honestly. Hermann braced his hand in the sand next to Newt’s and looked down at him, at his rosy cheeks and chest.

“We’re getting too much sun.”

“Yeah. Your nose is burning,” Newt said softly, barely touching Hermann’s nose. “Let’s get our shit and get back inside.”

“Okay.”

“I brought swim trunks, if you wanna have lunch here and actually swim?”

“Okay.”

“I bet I could find a beach ball.”

“We don’t need a beach ball, Newton.”

“Mm, kinda do. If it’s a date at the beach.”

“Yes, our ‘very first date’, Newton.”

“Okay, babe.”

Newt kissed Hermann again, much softer, exactly as he deserved to be kissed, and he was delighted. A new thrill filled him. Newt helped Hermann up to his feet, brushing sand off his hip, and walked with him back up the beach towards the tide pool before they headed to the prowler, soaked to the bone and the happiest he has felt in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha! Good catch by Sarah, I fixed it so it's "Dad's in Berlin with Illia." Just apparently confusing dads and uncles, like you do.


End file.
